


the moon that breaks the night

by FreshBrains



Category: Howl - Florence + the Machine (Song), Original Work
Genre: Child Death, Childbirth, Epistolary, F/F, Fear, Forbidden Love, Historical, Inspired by Music, Mental Breakdown, Original Character Death(s), Pining, Yuletide New Year's Resolutions Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:57:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Of course, if you come back, I shall welcome you with open arms.  Ladies do not have to worry so much about being found out taking one another as lovers.  Remember Miss Kerry’s costume party where you tugged me into the servants’ quarters and kissed me for hours?  Or all those nights curled up in the cool rooms of my country home, our dresses and skirts and underthings all tangled together among the sheets?  It shall not be a problem with my husband-to-be, I assure you.  It will be as if nothing has changed.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	the moon that breaks the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trollprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollprincess/gifts).



> I saw the song ("Howl" by Florence + the Machine) and the prompt (something gothic with female characters and _no_ werewolves) and knew I had to write something. Hope you enjoy!

_My dearest C,_

_I’ve not received a letter from you since the summer holidays.  Little Sister told me not to write you again—she no longer trusts you, I’ll have you know, and for good reason.  She told me that I should wait._

_Little Sister has always been smarter than me, though, so I write to you once more._

_Mother is still bedridden, her body sick from childbirth.  The child spends most of its time with the wet nurse, but I hear it cry all through the night, even though my room is at the far end of the manor.  Little Sister comes into my room in the early morning and sleeps with me, for the child’s cries frighten her—no matter how often I tell her, she still believes the manor is haunted by the great families before us, or perhaps by our dear brother William.  His ghost undoubtedly roams the battlefield, but not our halls._

_I’ve been engaged, which you probably already know, since it was announced in the papers in October.  If you’ve stopped reading the papers, dear girl, you’ve stopped living altogether, and that is something I cannot fathom.  Mr. H is a kind man, younger than many of our contemporaries’ husbands, but meek and red-faced and constantly ill with some malady or another.  I fear I shall play nursemaid for the rest of my days in his castle, though large and luxurious._

_I’m not one for bedsores and sick-stains, as you already know._

_Of course, if you come back, I shall welcome you with open arms.  Ladies do not have to worry so much about being found out taking one another as lovers.  Remember Miss Kerry’s costume party where you tugged me into the servants’ quarters and kissed me for hours?  Or all those nights curled up in the cool rooms of my country home, our dresses and skirts and underthings all tangled together among the sheets?  It shall not be a problem with my husband-to-be, I assure you.  It will be as if nothing has changed._

_Please write to me soon.  Just a small note, a bit of paper, so I no longer worry._

_With all my love,_

_G_

_Darling C,_

_I must begin by saying I am not angry, only confused at your lack of letters to me.  I assure you our address has not been altered, and our mail boy is quite reliable.  But I will not blame you, nor will I make you feel bad for my own loneliness.  There are more urgent matters at hand._

_I am sad to say that after the Christmas holiday, mother passed, with the child not too far after.  I was the one who found the babe still swaddled in its cradle, the wet nurse asleep from drink in the kitchens.  Lord how I never saw skin so pale, veined like marble…the image of the child’s eyes staring into nothing shall send shivers up my spine for the rest of my days.  There was nothing left to do but to call on the doctor and have him take the child away.  I could not bear to look at it._

_Little Sister is well, but she will be leaving us soon for an education.  Father is quite pleased at her ambition; he knew I was not one for schooling, but Little Sister is too clever to go straight from childhood to marriage.  Father and Mr. H have become quite close friends and I have been spending some time with my betrothed—when he is well, he likes to ride and play cards, and he has a fine book collection._

_However, when I am with him, I don’t feel as I once did with you.  He is so small and gentle, always kissing my hands and flushing in my presence, and he doesn’t laugh like you do.  I shall now reveal a secret, one that I have not divulged to anyone but Little Sister and shall die along with this letter—sometimes, when I am alone in bed at night, I grip the wood molding of the headboard and close my eyes, and I pretend you are above me once more, telling me told keep my hands above me and to not let go._

_Remember our games, C?  I miss our games.  I miss them dearly.  Mr. H does not arouse me like you once did, nor does he make me tingle, or make me damp in my underthings.  When I am with him, I don’t have to press my knees together for relief.  I fear for our wedding night, for when I took your fingers inside of me, my passion made me willing.  There will be no passion with Mr. H and me._

_Father is already looking for a new wife, somebody younger than mother.  Mother was too old to bear children, and Father does not mind saying so, though it disturbs me.  I am no innocent.  It takes two people to make a child, and from the way mother wailed during her child-bearing, I cannot imagine she was the trickster of the two._

_I am tired, C.  I am tired and I miss you.  Please write soon, or my heart shall break._

_G_

_C,_

_This shall be my last letter until you write me back, I assure you.  Perhaps you’ve had some paper and a pen on the desk for a long time now and do not know what to write, but I don’t want you to worry about that.  Just to smell your perfume on the envelope should be enough._

_I will also have you know that I am no longer living in the manor, but with my husband in his castle.  It is cold and dark here, the colors are too dusty and dim, and the servants are old and quite impudent to Mr. H.  I don’t mind that they roll their eyes at me, but Mr. H is such a sensitive man, and he doesn’t deserve it._

_I will come right out and say it, C—I am with child.  Not far along, only six weeks or a bit more.  Mr. H does not know yet, nor does Father, but I sent a letter to Little Sister informing her of my suspicions and she wrote back promptly to say she’d be home before summer.  She’s a governess now—below our station.  Forgive me for that statement, but you know as well as I do it is true.  She is good with little ones._

_Sometimes at night, I wake up next to Mr. H and hear crying down in the halls, the high, sickly crying of an infant.  I press my pillow over my ears and when I pull it back, the sound is gone, but I fear I am going insane, my love.  There is no child here but the one inside me, and the only one who screams at night is me, though it is silent._

_My wedding night was not unpleasant, though I am not eager to repeat it.  Mr. H tires easily and does not seek to rouse me into a state that he knows not what to do with, so our coupling is perfunctory and polite.  He leaves me alone to wash afterwards, unlike you, my cheeky girl—remember how during our very first time, you rinsed the blood away from my thighs with a cool cloth, whispering sweet things to me the entire time?  Or when you would slide your fingers back inside me for more, even when I was spent?_

_I feel silly for saying these things now.  I am a married woman, and I shall be a mother.  My life is no longer about sneaking around the grounds for adventures with my wonderful C, or imagining our life together far away from here._

_However, should you decide to return, I’m sure I can find a place for you in Mr. H’s household._

_With a heavy heart,_

_Your G_

**Author's Note:**

> Extremely hand-wavey period in time. I won't even pretend it's all accurate. Title from "Howl."


End file.
